


Untitled

by my99centdreams



Category: Attack the Block (2011)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my99centdreams/pseuds/my99centdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Other times, he'd wake up with Pest sound asleep next to him and get this carnal urge to fuck or fight him. It didn't make any bloody sense, but Moses had learned long ago to stop questioning those sorts of things about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Moses started having these dreams, right?

They were always the same: the five of them, safe - happy, hanging round the Block like they always used to.

Sometimes he couldn’t handle the dreams because Jerome or Dennis would say something that they never would've said in real life and it just reminded him that his subconscious was doing a miserable job of trying to help him out.

He'd wake with a start then, chest unbearably tight and cheeks wet from tears he didn't know he was shedding, and he’d touch his scars, run his fingers over them until he got it in his head that even though he felt like he was dead that he wasn’t, not even close. He was alive and still fighting even though he got tired sometimes.

Other times, he'd wake up with Pest sound asleep next to him and get this carnal urge to fuck or fight him. It didn't make any bloody sense, but Moses had learned long ago to stop questioning those sorts of things about himself.

He thought things would change, now that he's eighteen and fucked his way through half his class as some sort of coping mechanism and managed to hold down two jobs and make it to the end of the school year, but they haven't.

When Pest wakes up, hand flying sleepily to Moses' side of the bed, dragging slowly through the sheets for Moses he moves into it, twining their fingers together and draping his other arm across Pest's chest to pull him in closer.

He used to let Pest keep searching, angled himself as far away from that warm hand as he could without getting out of bed, until Pest bolted upright one night, hair mussed on one side and smushed flat on the other. His cheeks were red and his eyes were wet as he slapped both of his hands onto Moses' chest, breathing fast and erratic.

He slid one hand up to Moses' cheek, pressing his fingers to the faded pink scars, and the second they made contact the tension just sort of oozed out of him, his shoulders curling inwards and the frantic rise and fall of his chest slowing.

"Right here, Pest." Moses had whispered in the dark, guilt almost making him trip over the words. When Pest didn't say anything he repeated himself.

Pest nodded, murmured, "Right, yeah. Okay."

He went back to sleep a few minutes later, turning over on his side to keep one hand latched onto Moses' hip, spindly fingers pushing his shirt up and out of the way.

There was something about that, about Pest not even bothering to find something embarrassing or - or _wrong_ \- about what he was doing that made Moses feel something other than sadness, fear, and regret for the first time in two months.

Now, Pest pushes back against Moses, movements clumsy and tired, and Moses goes from confused to rock hard in a matter of seconds. Heat prickles along the back of his neck and more than anything right now he just wants to come.

He tries not to move, arm tightening around Pest's soft stomach without his consent and yanking him closer. He buries his face in Pest’s shoulder and the smell of sweat and weed clinging to the itchy fabric of his shirt makes Moses’ hips jerk.

And it's not that Moses isn't okay with this - with them - but he's seen how deep the bags under Pest's eyes have gotten and Moses knows Pest needs his sleep. So Moses starts to angle his hips away, hissing when Pest's hand suddenly darts out and smashes them together, too coordinated for someone who's supposedly sleeping.

Sweat glides down his back, his shirt sticks to his skin and he’s not sure if he can stop.

"Pest," Moses grunts, keeping himself painfully still, not even wanting to glance down to see the way his dick's pressed tight against Pest's ass, the tiny wet spot on the front of his briefs growing. He could do whatever he wanted at this point and Pest would let him. He could tug both of their shorts down, get a hand on his cock and order Pest to do the same and jerk off listening to the sounds Pest makes, high and breathy like a girl but so not at the same time. He could yank Pest down to suck him off, have those pretty lips of his wrapped round Moses' aching dick, and just when he's about to come he could pull out, come all over Pest's face and watch him hump the bed because Pest gets off on shit like that. Or, Moses swallows, or he could try something new.

"Yeah," Pest urges, voice barely above a whisper but stealing all of Moses’ attention anyways. "Yeah, it's okay. Do it."

"Fuck," Moses grits out, relief loosening his chest. His other hand flies up to tangle in Pest's stupid stoner boy hair and yank his head back, mouth moving over Pest's pale neck, sliding open mouthed along the length of it. He tastes like sweat and smoke, salty and bitter, and Moses scrapes his teeth down to Pest’s shoulder.

He wants to check if Pest's just as hard as he is, see if he's ruined his shorts yet, because Pest gets as wet as a fucking girl when they do this shit, cock leaking steadily as soon as Moses starts kissing him.

Moses goes to move the hand gripping onto Pest's rib, but stops when Pest lets out a slightly scared sounding, "No." and reaches back to tug their shorts down just far enough to get their cocks and Pest's ass out.

His cock smacks against his belly as soon as his boxers are out of the way and Moses groans like the sound’s being ripped out of him. Heat fills his belly as he starts thrusting, rutting up against Pest's ass, sweat and precome making the slide between Pest’s cheeks slicker and just so much fucking better, _Christ_. It only takes a few seconds for Pest to start stroking himself, slow like he wants to last, his fist bumping into Moses' forearm on every upstroke, which is so fucking stupid because Moses is gonna come any second now.

And he can hear them, the filthy fucking wet sounds Pest's fist makes as it slides up and down his cock, hips jerking back and forth like he can't decide which feels better, Moses' dick grinding against him or his dick slip-sliding through his hand as he fucks into it.

It feels good, like, toe-curling-please-don't-ever-stop kind of good, but it's not - he needs something else. _More_ , he thinks, even though he hasn't the slightest clue what else he wants. He's still biting along Pest's neck, mouth moving up to suck on his earlobe as he tightens the arm wrapped around Pest and pleads, voice rough and desperate, " _Please_."

Pest shudders against him and turns his head a little, his eyes heavy-lidded like he's stoned or really drunk and the way his mouth’s open, pink and wet, looks fucking obscene for whatever fucking reason and Moses wants to shove his dick in there so fucking bad it aches.

"Wh-" Pest cuts off, swallows loudly. "What d'you want?" his voice sounds fucking wrecked too, eager and breathy, like it does when he sucks Moses down deep and pulls off, hand a blur on his cock, and asks if he'll come on his face.

When Moses doesn't say anything, just presses his face to the dip between Pest's neck and shoulder, mouth open, and keeps moving Pest begs, "Moses."

And Moses remembers how Pest clams up when he's drunk or high and lets Moses ramble on for once except for this one time where he wouldn't fucking shut up, kept spewing all this shit about what he thinks about when he jacks off. Remembers how when Pest bit his lip and gazed up at Moses, hands hot on Moses' thighs, to say, "Think about you talking, ordering me around or just telling me how good it feels," he looked away. "How good it feels inside me, warm and tight, and how 'm being so good for you." Moses stomach dropped off the face of the Earth and in the second it took for him to get hard Pest was already clawing at his zipper.

Moses blurts, "Wanna - _oh, fuck_ \- wanna spread you open. 'M not - 'm not gonna fuck you, but I gotta-”

Pest shoves Moses' arm off him, his other hand moving a lot fucking faster on his cock all of a sudden. He moans, "Oh _, Christ_." and reaches back, fingers splayed on his ass as he spreads himself open for Moses.

Moses groans at the sight, his hand fucking swallowing Pest's as he digs his nails into the pink skin of Pest’s ass even harder. He wants to savor this, maybe make it last, but the way it - Pest - looks, so _ready_ for Moses chucks any patience he has out the window. He scoots in closer, cock sliding between Pest's cheeks and - _ah, yeah_ \- that's what he fucking needs. His dick looks bigger like this and he tries to look away because if he doesn't he's gonna blow his load any second, but - but he's gotta fucking watch.

Voice a low, hot rush against Pest’s ear he rasps, " _Fuck_ , I could - I could fuck you right now and you'd let me, wouldn't you? Probably fucking cream yourself before I even got all the way inside."

Pest gasps, nodding quickly, breath coming in loud pants and Moses hears it when he stops stroking himself. "Yeah - fuck, _Moses_ \- wanna feel you."

"You are," he shivers, the way Pest says his name fucking drips down his spine like a chill.

"No - no all the way." Pest gasps. "Inside me."

Moses moans so fucking loud at that he can’t believe he didn’t come. He laughs, or well, he tries to but it comes out as this choking sound. "This not enough for you? You're a fucking greedy slut, y'know that?"

Pest cries out and Moses hears the wet sounds pick up again. "Don't stop, _fuck_. Feels so fucking good, Moses, _please_."

Moses groans again and picks up speed, so fucking ready to come he can hardly stand it. "One day - one day 'm gonna fuck you, Pest. Gonna sink right into that tight ass of yours and it's gonna feel like it's too much, like you're gonna split open. And you're not - not gonna fucking touch yourself 'cause I know you can come from just having a fucking cock in your ass.

Pest whines and stiffens against him, spine arching as he comes, spilling all over his fist and belly and Moses wishes he could feel it from the inside.

Moses comes a few thrusts later, biting down hard enough to break the skin on Pest’s shoulder, the coppery taste of blood dripping onto his tongue as his dick pulses and spurts over Pest’s ass, and if he was standing he probably would've gotten knocked over by the force of it. He keeps his eyes shut tight through the aftershocks, the waves of heat in his belly making him shake against Pest’s damp shirt, his hips hitching up weakly. When he finally looks down, the light from the streetlamp making his come shine on Pest’s ass he gets this urge to rub it into Pest’s flushed skin, but then Pest rolls onto his back and he loses his chance.

"Oh, man." Pest finally says, laughing quietly. Moses pushes himself up a bit and watches Pest’s eyes flick down to Moses’ cock and back up again. He scrambles on top of Pest, pressing their lips together slow and sweet before pulling away to lick up the small bead of blood trailing down from the bite mark on Pest’s shoulder.

“Next time,” Pest murmurs, hand coming up to cradle Moses’ jaw.

“Hm?”

“Next time you’re gonna fuck me,” Pest grins, pressing a chaste kiss to Moses’ lips before pushing him over and rolling onto his side, breath evening out a second later. Moses follows his lead and is out like a light, a strange calm washing over him and weighing down his eyelids. As long as he’s got Pest (and Biggz) he’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the lack of British-sounding dialogue.


End file.
